


As Long As We're Together

by dizzy



Series: Trip and Stumble [14]
Category: Glee RPF, StarKid Productions RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back to the place where their story begins...</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long As We're Together

They spend the first days of January moving. 

It doesn’t actually take that long. Between the two of them they have one bedroom’s worth of stuff. The only furniture they start with is their bed, which takes up approximately half of their bedroom, and Chris’s desk, which gets jammed into the corner of the living room to leave space for where a couch and a tv will go. 

They wake up early on a Wednesday, when all the stores are open again, and spend a chilly morning wandering in and out of second hand stores. They get breakfast at a diner and then get warm drinks before they leave, coffee that steams from the cups. 

“I feel so grown up,” Chris says. 

“You realize I saw you this morning in your Sonic the Hedgehog jammies, right?” Darren points out. 

“So? They match your Ninja Turtle ones.” Chris reaches over and steals a piece of bacon from Darren’s plate. “I’ll never be too old for cartoons.” 

“I knew there was a reason that I loved you,” Darren says, solemn. “Besides that sweet, sweet ass.” 

Chris wants to be offended, but really, who is he to argue when Darren wants to compliment his ass? 

* 

They find a couch from someone on campus, a couple of tables for fairly cheap, and set up the entirely ridiculously large tv that had been Darren’s Christmas gift from his parents. 

The girls descend upon the apartment and help them decorate. 

“It’s a present,” Lauren says. 

“You guys do love me!” Darren grins ear to ear. 

Meredith corrects him. “A present for Chris.”

The present involves such donations as: an actual laundry hamper, an ironing board, a light for the bathroom mirror, a shower caddy (the kind that sticks to the shower wall with suction cups), and a book of vouchers for yelling at Darren to clean up after himself, redeemable to any participating female on the occasion that Chris should be too exhausted to properly chastise Darren himself. 

“It’s like you don’t even think he’s a slob, too!” Darren whines. 

“Darren.” 

“What?” Darren pouts. 

Lauren pokes him in the arm. “Do you know how many times I was in your room at the other place? Do you know how many times I saw laundry on the floor and knew it was yours?” 

“Hey, we share clothes sometimes, he could have worn my stuff that day.” Darren is still trying to defend himself. 

“Give in, sweetie,” Chris says. He kisses Darren on the cheek. “They’re going to win. You know how this goes.” 

“You just _want_ them to win.” Darren crosses his arms. “Because they like you more.” 

“Darren, look at all the nice housewarming gifts they brought us.” 

Darren sighs. “Fine. The hamper is awesome. And the other stuff.” 

“Now tell them thank you-” 

“Thank you.” 

“-and go get your wallet, because we’re going to take them out to eat,” Chris finishes. 

Darren gets up and goes to find his wallet, somewhere in the bedroom. Once he’s out of earshot the girls all start to laugh. “How do you even do that?” Meredith says. 

“Do what?” 

“Get him so-” She looks around, helpless to find the right words. “Well trained?” 

“Oh.” Chris smirks. “That’s easy. Blowjobs.” 

“Did I hear the word blowjob?” Darren immediately walks back into the room. 

*

They settle on dinner not too far away and walk back huddled close, arms linked and gloved hands buried in their own pockets. 

“We need a car,” Chris says, groaning. 

“Do we?” Darren asks. “We can make it another year, can’t we? You know Brian might spiral into a depressive state if we didn’t show up asking for him to take us places once a week.” 

“A year?” Chris asks quietly. 

Darren just looks at him, then looks away, shrugging a little. 

This is the thing they haven’t talked about, the thing they’ve both delicately stepped around. Even when they’d signed a lease - they’d let the moment pass, both marking six months with only a brief glance to assure each other that they were on the same page. 

Because in six months, Darren will be graduating. 

Chris doesn’t know what Darren plans to do. 

He feels like he’s still recovering from a semester apart. Every morning he wakes up to the tight clench of relief when he can roll over and see Darren there. 

The last thing he wants is to start a conversation that will end with the knowledge of Darren leaving him again. 

But they have to, at some point. 

Darren’s arm tightens on his. 

Later. They’ll talk about it later. 

*

By Friday it actually resembles a somewhat furnished home. 

Chris comes back from classes and drops his backpack by the door and just looks. He takes it in and he gets so caught up in the looking that he doesn’t notice Darren walking in behind him until arms close around his waist. 

“Guess what?” Darren whispers. 

“What?” Chris whispers back. 

“We can have sex as loudly as we want.” Darren growls and playfully bites at his neck. 

Chris laughs, leaning back into him. His hands reach down and cover Darren’s, feeling the bump of his wristbone and the warm, hairy skin of his arm. His index finger traces a vein. “No, we can’t. We still have neighbors and these walls aren’t soundproofed.”

“Well. We can be loud _er_ at least, right?” Darren asks. 

“Yes, we can be louder. Is everyone coming over tonight?” Chris doesn’t mind the idea of hosting the first movie night of the semester in their new place, but part of him wishes they could have at least put it off a week and enjoyed a night in. He looks at their little two-seat table and thinks of how nice a date night would be. 

“Seven, I think,” Darren says. “But don’t worry. I’m kicking ‘em out at midnight.”

“Really?” Chris turns his head a little to look at Darren. 

“Yes.” Darren kisses his neck again. “I need some Chris time tonight. No one is crashing on the couch.” 

“I love you.” Chris turns and kisses Darren, catching his bottom lip and sucking on it a little. Darren makes a happy sound and pulls Chris in closer with a hand on each ass cheek. “We need to save this for after we kick them out.” 

“What? It’s only five-thirty... we have plenty of time...” Darren pouts at him, leaning in for another kiss. “ _Plenty_.”

“Well, if it’s plenty...” He lets Darren guide him back toward the bedroom. 

*

“Are you prepared for the separation anxiety to come?” 

Chris looks up, spotting Julia in the doorway. He’s sitting on the floor in the dressing room that Beatrice and her kittens live in. Six squirmy little fluffyballs are crawling all over him, toppling every which way and bouncing right back up. Little butts wiggle in pounce-mode and there is one that seems determined to hook her little claws into his shirt and climb right up. 

Half of them are the same orange and white Beatrice is, but two of them are more of a gray-brown streaked through with orange. The runt of the litter is the only mostly solid gray, only lightly streaked with brownish stripes in the right kind of light. That’s the one that just can’t get close enough, constantly mewling unless she’s being held. They hadn’t even known that she was a she under all that fluff for a couple of days, hence the unfortunate name given to her: Benedick. 

“Needy little thing,” Chris says, picking her up and cuddling Beni. 

Julia squats down and two of the kittens (Horatio and Falstaff) both go darting over to her. Somehow Julia and Chris have become de facto parents to the litter, but in a under twenty four hours all the kittens are being shuffled off to their forever homes. 

Beatrice, of course, will continue to live in the theater - after a trip to the vet to nix any repeat performances in the reproductive cycle show. 

“What will you do without her peeing on your shoes once a week?” Julia asks. She reaches over and picks up Phebe, too. “You can come visit my little button chewer whenever you want.” 

Chris laughs. The truth is that he’s jealous of Julia deciding to adopt one of them, but he doesn’t have the extra money for a pet deposit and the other kittens had been claimed right away anyway. He’s happy enough just knowing that they’ll be loved, especially Beni, his noisy little misgendered brat.

Chris’s phone buzzes and he checks it. “That’s Darren, he’s almost here. Do you want to get lunch with us?” 

Julia smiles at the invitation. “No, thanks. I’m going to hang around here for a while. Two pm tomorrow?” 

He nods and gets to his feet. They don’t really both need to be here to give the kittens away, but by silent agreement they’d acknowledged that neither of them wanted to miss out on final goodbyes. “See you then.” 

*

At half past three the next day, a very mopey Chris walks into their apartment. 

He can hear Darren in the kitchen singing loudly and smiles but bypasses it to hit the bathroom. By the time he comes back out, Darren isn’t in the kitchen anymore. 

He’s in the living room, sitting on the couch and looking very proud of himself. On the coffee table in front of him is a large wrapped present with a big bow on it. “For you,” he says, pointing. 

“What?” Chris frowns. “It isn’t my birthday. Or our anniversary.” 

“It’s an I-fucking-felt-like-it present, come on, just open it! And uh. Fast. Or you might have a pissed off present.” 

Right at that moment his ‘present’ lets out a very familiar, very pathetic little meow. 

Chris’s eyes go wide with recognition. “Darren, you didn’t-” 

“Open it!” Darren demands, bouncing and leaning forward. 

Chris reaches down and lifts the top off of the box. Inside is a perturbed looking Beni, whose volume drastically increases when she sees that it’s Chris looming over her little enclosure. She jumps up with both paws on the side of the box, tail twitching. 

“Darren!” He smiles so hard that his cheeks ache from it, cuddling her to his chest. She quiets instantly and a few seconds later her tiny body is vibrating with purrs. “We can’t do this, we aren’t even allowed-” 

“I paid the pet deposit,” Darren says, getting up. He slides an arm around Chris and uses two fingers to scratch Beni behind the ears. “I told you I wanted a fucking cat, man.” 

“I thought someone was taking her- Jake, right?” Chris is blown away, but still confused.

“Yeah, Jake and Amy. They called a couple days ago and backed out. It was supposed to be a surprise for Amy, but she found the litter box and the food in the closet and broke it to him that she was allergic.” Darren says. “Julia gave me a heads up and asked if I wanted her for you.” 

“I saw Jake leave with her!” Chris exclaims. Beni wiggles her way up his shoulder and starts to knead her claws into his collarbone. He winces and moves her somewhere a little more comfortable, kissing the top of her head and the tips of Darren’s fingers at the same time. 

Darren grins. “Yeah, Julia called him up and asked if he’d play along.” 

“I’m going to kill her,” Chris says, looking very much the opposite. “She spent twenty minutes teasing me about saying goodbye.” 

“I wish I’d been there, but I had to go meet Jake and get her before you got back.” Darren moves his hand off of the kitten and puts both arms around Chris. “You like it? Your present?” 

Darren looks too pleased with himself. If he were a puppy, he’d be wagging his tail and waiting on a ‘good boy’ and a scratch behind the ears. 

“I love it,” Chris says, leaning in to kiss Darren. “I love _you_.” 

He deepens the kiss - until Beni gets jealous and tries to attack Darren’s hair, pawing at one of his curls and accidentally snagging on his ear. 

“Ow!” Darren yelps back, covering the side of his head with one hand. “You sneaky little cockblock. 

Chris snickers and cradles her more closely. 

*

He meets Ashley for lunch between classes one day. 

“Boo, you can’t really think he’s planning on moving somewhere without you,” Ashley says. 

“That’s the thing. I’m afraid he is... and I’m afraid he isn’t.” Chris stabs his fork into his slice of pizza. “Of course I don’t want him to leave, but I just have this feeling like he really wants to underneath everything else.” 

“So? Maybe he does?” Ashley reaches over and stills the hand holding the fork. “Don’t play with your food.” 

“Thanks, mom,” Chris says, making a face at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure part of him does want to go. But part of him wants to stay. And you don’t get to pick which one is more important to him. That’s all on him.” She shrugs. “If he did want to leave, would you break up with him?” 

“No,” Chris says. “Not - not unless that’s what he wanted.” 

“Do you think that’s what he wants?” 

Chris smiles down at his plate. “No, I don’t.” 

“Then, come on, kid. Stop worrying. Just talk to him and figure it out.” She reaches out and steals one of the cookies resting on his napkin. “It won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.”

*

“So, I was thinking.” Darren flops down onto the couch, toes nudging into Chris’s thighs until Chris lifts up his laptop. Darren stretches out with his legs over Chris’s lap and Chris puts his computer back down on Darren’s calves. 

“That’s dangerous.” He murmurs, only halfway paying attention as he works on a short story for one of his writing classes. 

“And I was _thinking_ ,” Darren goes on. “That I missed Halloween and I’m still bummed about that. So I want a redo.” 

Chris looks up. “What?” 

Darren grins. “You look fucking adorable with those glasses on, by the way.” 

Chris blushes - he’s not sure why, but he does. He blushes and smiles and wonders how Darren can still make him feel like this a few years in. “Shut up. Now, what?” 

“I want a redo on Halloween! I’m bummed I missed it, I want to dress up.” 

“Darren, it’s March.” Chris can tell this is going somewhere but he plays along. 

“So? Who says we can’t still get dressed up?” 

“And do what? Go trick or treating? College students in costumes knocking on people’s doors after dark? Because that won’t get us arrested.” Chris puts his laptop on the coffee table and pulls his own legs up onto the couch, turning to face Darren. Darren doesn’t move so they end up in a tangle of limbs, but somehow comfortable. 

“No, we can like, go _do_ something. Laser tag or - oh, fuck, paintball! Costume paintball party!” Darren’s voice gets faster as his excitement rises. “Oh come on, Chris, can we, _please_?”

Chris laughs. “Yes. That actually sounds really fun.” 

“Yes!!” Darren actually fist pumps. “Shit, I gotta text everyone and get a date set up. And we need costumes! What are we gonna be? We gotta do like, a couples theme, we gotta.”

Warmth settles in Chris’s chest. Darren happy and excited has never been anything but contagious for him. It still rocks him to the core that he’s the person Darren wants to share _everything_ with. “Well, of course we do.” 

He leans forward, stretching out beside Darren, who opens his arms and cuddles Chris to him like it’s second nature, still talking the entire time. Chris rests his head on Darren’s chest and closes his eyes, listening but mostly just feeling the vibrations of the words against his skin.

* 

“Look, I’m not saying it’s a bad costume, I’m just saying - come on. _Paintball._ ” Darren argues with him as they walk around campus, meandering their way toward lunch. They hadn’t planned on meeting up until after show rehearsal but Darren’s class was canceled and he’d surprised Chris by waiting outside of his building for him. 

“We could take something to change into,” Chris suggests. 

“The idea is costume paintball not costume car ride to paintball place. We can do yours for Halloween.” 

Chris frowns. He likes his costume idea. “You’d make a great Lord Alfred Douglas, though.” 

“And _you’d_ make a great Oscar Wilde, but I saw those costumes. They’re gonna cost a bunch and we’ll only be able to use them once, they’ll be covered in paint. Batman and Robin are costumes we can get for cheap, and it won’t matter if they get trashed.” Darren pleads his case.

Chris has to admit that he has good points. “But we’ll do mine for Halloween?” 

“I will totally indulge your history boner in October, yes. Solemn vow.” Darren holds up one hand.

“And I can be Batman?” Chris grins. 

Darren’s mouth drops open. “But -” 

Chris pouts. 

“... fine. Stop that! You win! Put that face away.” Darren points at him. “You know it does things to me.” 

Chris juts his lower lip out more, but then Darren pounces and grabs him and spins him around, smacking their lips together. Chris laughs and hugs him back for a few seconds before he pulls away. “Stop that, we’re in public.” 

Darren breaks into an enthusiastic rendition of Judy Garland’s _I Don’t Care._

* 

They never settle on a name for costume paintball. Darren tries a plethora: Hallomarch, Marchoween, Jack O’Paintballing... each and every one is met with cold rejection on grounds of not clever and/or pun-worthy enough. In the end it just gets called Costume Paintball. 

They meet at Futureball and chip in to pay the party fee, confusing the employees by acting like absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary even though Joe Moses is dressed like Dorothy Gale, Brian is Hal Solo, Jaime is Leonardo - the ninja turtle, not the painter - and everyone else is in equally outlandish outfits. Somehow the entire thing had snowballed into a massive event - enough that when they made the reservation Darren had decided to go all out and book them as a bachelor party, complete with catering so they wouldn’t have to worry about crashing a poor unsuspecting restaurant looking like war-torn lunatics. 

Chris is already thinking strategically. “You’re a walking target,” he says to Darren, gesturing to his red and green outfit. “I’ll blend in.” 

“Not if I’m right behind you.” Darren slides a hand over the curve of Chris’s ass, well defined by the tight spandex outfit.

“You wouldn’t.” Chris narrows his eyes. 

“I did not take you for the overly competitive type,” Lauren comments. 

They’re waiting on the last few people to arrive before they officially start, standing around and making conversation. 

“You kidding me?” Darren grins. He’s sitting on the table part of a picnic table under the pavillion, knees bracketing Chris as he sits on the actual bench. He’s playing with Chris’s batman ears. “He gets vicious.” 

“Hey-ho, party people!” Joey’s voice calls out as he walks closer. 

Chris gets one look at his costume (previously guarded as if it were a state secret) and cracks up. “Oh my god.”

Joey pirouettes his way to them, grasping his tail and flicking it. He stops in front of Chris and Darren, raises one black-clad hand, and bats at Chris’s nose. “Meow there, sir.” 

Chris turns his face into Darren’s knee, clutching it and still laughing. 

Darren looks less amused. “This is a fucking couples costume, not a couples and third wheel one!” 

Joey pouts. “I thought you guys needed a villain!” 

“And of every villain in the Batman universe, you picked _the one he sleeps with?_ ” Darren actually sounds legitimately grumpy. 

Chris reaches up and grabs his hands, squeezing them in reassurance. “Darren, I promise you I am not so dedicated to the character experience that I will sleep with Joey during paintball.” 

“What? Just during?” This time Darren is playing it up. 

“Or after,” Chris corrects himself. 

“Better.” Darren grips Chris’s hands, still sulking in Joey’s direction. “There’s only room for so much homoerotic tension here.” 

“Trust me, Batman and Robin had that covered,” Joey says. He reaches out and snaps Darren’s face mask. “I’m just here to add a layer to the tension.” 

“Does this mean we get to shoot him extra hard, baby?” Darren asks Chris. “Because he’s the bad guy and all?” 

“Yes,” Chris says. “You can shoot him extra hard.” 

“Hey!” Joey protests. He gives Chris a wounded look. 

“It’s okay,” Lauren says, pinstripe hat tipped up on her forehead. She smacks her gum and talks in a mafia accent. “I’ll cover your bottom, sweetcheeks.” 

*

Chris is a paint splattered mess but he can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. 

They’ve been playing so long that there are sweat spots on Darren’s costume, at the small of his back and his neck line and under his arms, and they’re both covered in dirt and countless bruises from hitting the ground and rolling so much. 

They work well together, though - he and Darren, specifically. Their team is technically made up of fifteen people but he and Darren break away on their own and hunt down the opposition one by one (including stopping to stalk Joey frequently). 

Once they’re finally finished they hand in their equipment and trudge their filthy exhausted selves to the picnic area. 

“Man, this is the most awesome bachelor party we’ve done in a while.” The comment comes from one of the employees as he bringing out the first huge bucket of soft drinks. “Who is the lucky guy?” 

There’s a brief pause in almost every conversation before Joey winks at Darren and then loops an arm around Chris’s shoulder. “This guy right here. These guys, actually.” 

“Oh, congrats!” The guy gives them double high fives that Chris and Darren both return, not sure what else to really do. 

Once he walks away the laughter starts. “Oh my god.” Chris punches Joey in the arm. “You jerk.” 

“What?” Joey holds up his hands. “Come on!” 

“He’s right,” Meredith says, putting her arm around Joey to console him. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you two are headed that way anyway.” 

Chris goes bright red, afraid to even look at Darren. Marriage is genuinely not a step he’s given any thought to and he’s positive Darren hasn’t either. It’s not even like they could legally get married. Not in Michigan, anyway. 

Then Darren says, “You know this doesn’t fucking count for a real bachelor party, right? You’ll have to top this” 

“What? This is _awesome._ ” Joe (Walker) chimes in. 

Darren isn’t buying it. “It was also our idea and we both paid for ourselves. When you give us bachelor parties, I expect to not have to plan anything or pay a cent. Also, there better be alcohol.” 

“And naked men?” Lauren asks. 

Darren scowls at her. “No naked men.” 

“Or women,” Chris joins in, once he’s pretty sure his heart is beating normally again. He looks at Darren finally and Darren is giving him that warm, sweet smile that makes his eyes crease and almost disappear. 

*

They’re both aching and exhausted when they make their way inside. 

Chris immediately goes to Beni, picking her up and giving her the attention that she seems very irate to have been denied the whole day. “Forget Joey, you’re the only catwoman that I need.”

Darren snorts. “You are such a cat lady.”

“Fuck you, I’m not a lady,” Chris says, but he’s still talking in the high, sugary voice he uses with Beni. “I’m not a lady, am I?” 

“She can’t answer you!” Darren shouts as he disappears down the hallway. 

“You hungry, little girl?” He asks, scooping out a handful of kitten food and then laughing when she immediately abandons the cuddling and squirms to get down. 

He hears water running in the bathroom and if the ears on his costume had been real they’d have perked up. He starts stripping down layers as he goes, glad to be out of the filthy outfit. 

“Bath?” He asks hopefully. He’d love to just soak. 

“Shower, then bath.” Darren is mostly naked except for his Robin utility belt. “I need to de-funk or that won’t be water you want to bathe in.” 

“Ew.” Chris reaches out and undoes the belt for him, trailing his fingers over Darren’s stomach and down to brush against his soft cock. His skin is slightly tacky with dried sweat, even there, but Chris sort of... likes it. A little bit in a kinky way but mostly in just a familiar way. 

“I think even my dick is too tired to move,” Darren says, sighing. He leans in and kisses Chris apologetically. “I’m gonna get started.” 

“Save your hair,” Chris says. “I want to do it.” 

“Already planned on it.” Darren smiles and steps into the spray of water. 

Chris strips out of the rest of his costume and they wash separately but close together, the only exception being Chris as he takes his time working his fingers along Darren’s scalp. His hair is the same length it was before Italy now and Chris loves how shaggy it is. 

“I’m keeping it this way for the show,” Darren says. “I think Harry Potter needs a white dude fro. It sort of lends to the douchebag aura I’m trying for.” 

Chris laughs. “I think you’ll manage to nail it, don’t worry.” 

*

After Darren is sufficiently convinced that he’s removed enough caked on sweat and grime to bathe, they run the water and settle down. Darren is behind Chris, arms and legs surrounding him. 

“I could fall asleep here,” Chris says, eyes heavy. “Don’t let me drown?” 

“I’d never. You’re too pretty.” Darren kisses the top of his head. “And I love you too much.” 

“Love you, too,” Chris mumbles. He’s smiling and the conversation earlier comes back to him. He almost mentions it, but at the last minute, his resolve falls. It spurs something else though and what comes out of his mouth is different but much more needed. “What are you going to do when you graduate?” 

He feels the steady rise and fall of Darren’s chest behind him and then Darren says, “I don’t know. Try to find a job.” 

“Where?” The question feels like a lump in his throat, hard to work out. 

Darren doesn’t hesitate, though. “Here.” 

“You can’t,” Chris says. “You can’t do that. You know where you need to be, right? Los Angeles, or New York, or - even Chicago, if you want to do theater.” 

“Not leaving you. That’s not up for debate.” Darren smiles brightly, a little too brightly. It’s not forced, just - stubborn. “I can make music anywhere.”

“But you can’t become famous and successful anywhere. That’s why it has to be up for debate,” Chris says. “You’ve got - dreams. Plans. Unless you just want to do local theater and play in bars forever.” 

“You’re still graduating a semester early, right?” Darren asks. 

Chris had managed to take enough summer classes and had a heavy enough load when Darren was gone to definitely make it an option. ‘Yeah.” 

“It’s not forever. That’s like, six months? It’s nothing, Chris. I can fucking wait tables for that long. Then wherever we go, we go together.” Darren’s voice is firm. Chris has to swallow hard again but it doesn’t help this time. He shakes a little and Darren’s hands rub up and down his arms. “Water too cold?” 

“No,” Chris says, leaning back into him. “It’s perfect.”

*

“Chris,” Darren says, poking at his shoulder. 

Chris jerks up, eyes bleary and neck aches from the weird slumped over the desk position he’s been in. “Fuck.” 

He looks over at Darren, who kneels beside Chris’s desk chair giving him a smile that’s half laughter and half tenderness. “Babe.” Darren reaches up and Chris isn’t sure what he’s doing at first when Darren’s thumb passes over the corner of his mouth. Then Chris realizes - he’s wiping away drool. Gross, but sweet. “We need to talk.” 

“I need to - shit. What time is it?” Chris scrambles suddenly, jabbing at keys on his laptop. It whirs back to life, screen going from black to a Word document. “Fuck! How long as I asleep?” 

Darren shuts the laptop. “That’s what we need to talk about. You haven’t come to bed for two days.” 

“I slept-” 

“On the couch. Shit, I woke up and wondered if you were mad at me or something when I realized you never came to bed. Then I saw you in here.” Darren rocks on his heels a little bit, then gets to his feet. “I know it’s dead week and I know midterms start Monday and I know you’re stressed but you aren’t gonna do any good if you show up to your final presentations like a zombie. You need to calm your tits for a little while.” 

“I can’t- _calm my tits_?” 

Darren snatches the laptop from him the desk, tugging the power cable out from where it’s connected. “You can. And you’re not getting this back until you do. You smell funky. Go shower, brush your teeth, put some clean clothes on, and then we’re going out-fucking-side for a few hours.” 

“Darren, I _can’t_.” Chris grabs for his computer but Darren steps away. “You asshole, give that back!” 

“Chris, calm down. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re too stressed, you think you’re really producing your best work like this? When’s the last time you stopped and took a break? I know you have a lot to do, but you need a break.” 

“I can’t just - stop-” 

“Then take a pen and a notebook, but you’re losing the computer for a few hours.” Darren stands firm. “Three, okay? Three hours and we come back.” 

Chris wants to argue more, but with his Thursday and Friday classes canceled for exam and presentation prep he realizes he hasn’t actually left the apartment in over 48 hours. His limbs feel heavy, his eyes hurt, and... and he _does_ smell. “It starts now.” 

“It starts when we leave,” Darren corrects him. “So shower fast if you want to. But three hours, outside.” 

“But I...” His mind is racing with everything he needs to do. 

“Chris.” Darren reaches out and cups his cheek. “You need a break.” 

Chris shuts his eyes. “Fine.” 

Darren’s thumb rubs along his jawline. “This stubble thing is hot, by the way. Can we re-visit this over the summer?” 

“Maybe.” Chris smiles, just a little. Darren is right. He needs a break. He leans in to kiss Darren but Darren shifts away. 

“Uh, after you’ve showered, please.” Darren grins and slaps his ass before shoving him forward toward the bathroom. 

*

“This was a good idea,” Chris admits an hour later. He’s drowsy and full from the former contents of the sandwich boxes strewn around them, stretched out on a blanket on one of the grassy spots on campus

It’s a nice day, headed toward chilly but perfect for the moment with just a light jacket. He soaks in the sun and decides that it doesn’t matter what all he needs to get done, it can wait a few minutes... or a few hours. 

Darren sits beside him strumming his guitar, singing bits and pieces of songs they’re working on for the show they have coming up, occasionally waving to people that he knows as they walk by and shout their hellos. He asks Chris’s opinion now and then until Chris is too close to sleep to actually reply. 

Chris half-sleeps for almost an hour and a half, snippets of reality invading his dreams in a pleasant way. People join them and leave again and the entire world narrows down to warmth on his skin, the smell of fresh grass and trees around them, and the sound of Darren making music. 

He isn’t aware when Darren leaves, and probably would keep sleeping for hours more but Darren nudges him awake. “Come on, sleeping beauty. Wakey wakey wakey.” 

Chris groans and rubs his eyes. “Five more minutes, mom,” he says, but he wakes easily and even his voice is mostly clear right away. He blinks his eyes open and sees Darren looming over him. 

He’s holding a Starbucks cup. Chris sits straight up and grabs it. “Coffee.” 

“Yep. And your favorite barista was working, she’s going to make special delivery service when she’s off work at seven. I’m going to order pizza, you’re going to stop and actually eat food, then you’re going to work for a few more hours before you turn the computer off and go to bed with your gorgeous boyfriend, let him give you a _spectacular_ blowjob since he hasn’t had his mouth on you in almost a week, and you’re going to sleep a full night.” Darren rattles it off like he’s rehearsed the speech. 

Coffee makes him docile, apparently. Chris just sips his mocha and says, “Yes, sir.” 

“Ooh, so obedient. Me likey.” Darren hops to his feet without spilling his own drink and then offers a hand down to Chris. “Come on, back to the grind.”

*

Midterms come and go and they’re into April. 

Chris is settled in front of his computer working on everything he knows he won’t have time to do in the coming week when his phone rings. 

“Uh, buddy,” Nick says, as soon as Chris answers. “Need a favor from you.” 

“What is it?” Chris is cautious. He knows Nick and Matt have the brunt of the responsibility with the show they have coming up, and he doesn’t mind helping, but he’d really planned on having the day for schoolwork. 

“Someone dropped out and we need a Crabbe like, five minutes ago,” Nick says. “I don’t really have time to go knocking on doors and begging, so could you find someone?” 

“Uh.” Chris frowns, but it doesn’t actually take him long to decide that they other guys have enough on their plates. “Sure. Crabbe doesn’t have many lines, right?” 

“Nah, not many, we just need someone willing to give us basically their lives for the next week,” Nick says. “Oh, and remind Darren we need the music finished like, some time before we open?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m already withholding sex as a method of bribery,” Chris says. “He’ll have everything ready by Tuesday.” 

“That was TMI but I’ll forgive you because you’re saving our butts here,” Nick says. 

Once they hang up Chris scrolls through his contact list. Most of the people he knows at school that aren’t already in the show aren’t performers. 

Then he scrolls down to Julia’s name. His instinct is to wait and have Darren ask her, but he and Julia - they’ve been on good terms lately. Friendly, even. 

He screws up his courage and calls her.

She says yes. 

*

The Tuesday before they open Harry Potter: The Musical is one of the longest days Chris can remember. 

He’s been in an empty classroom with a steady rotation of crew coming in and out to help with set design and props, set to a soundtrack of Darren and A.J. working on new music and then immediately teaching it to the other cast members, the tinkling of piano keys and occasional break to watch them perform the group numbers. 

It’s amazing to watch this happen up close, and to watch it happen with Darren. It’s the first time they’ve worked on a show _together_ and Chris is suddenly intensely regretful that it might be the last. 

He says as much to Darren as they take a break to tear into fast food brought to them by a very kind soul. They sit side by side against the wall, right under a blackboard, and share a bag of chips between them. 

“Well, last time in school,” Darren says. “Who knows what’ll happen after this? I mean, you want to write, so just - write me roles.” 

“Oh yeah?” Chris smiles. “You’d star in something just because I wrote it?” 

“Not because you wrote it,” Darren says. “I’d star in it because you’re _good_ and I know if you wrote it, that it would be worth starring in.” 

Chris leans over and kisses his cheek. “You’re sweet.” 

“And you have mustard breath.” Darren wipes at his cheek. “So what are you working on now?” 

“Cardboard dragons,” Chris says. “I have to color mine in. No one told me college and kindergarten would have so much in common.” 

Darren sighs loudly. “I’m gonna miss it.” 

“I’ll buy you a coloring book,” Chris says. 

“No, asshole. I meant - college.” Darren scoots in so that their arms press all the way from shoulder to elbow. “I got some job applications.” 

“Darren...” They’ve been back and forth on this a few times. 

It’s not that Chris _wants_ Darren to leave, it’s just that he doesn’t want to be the only reason Darren stays. 

“Look, it’s not like Hollywood is beating down my door. And my folks are gonna stop giving me money when I graduate - I mean, I don’t want them supporting me if I can make it on my own.” 

“I understand,” Chris says. He does - he wishes he could be more independent right now too but his parents are fine with helping him as long as he’s in school and has a job to cover all the extra stuff he does for fun. 

“So our money might get a little tighter, but I figure we can give up cable?” 

“And eating out so much,” Chris agrees. “We’ll work it out.” 

Darren rests his head on Chris’s shoulder. His hair feels soft and springy and familiar when Chris presses a cheek to it. 

“So,” Chris asks, picking up his burger to take another bite. “Tell me where all you applied.”

*

The night of the show is a special kind of exhilaration.

It’s on Thursday and none of them have had enough rehearsal, none of them had enough to put towards a budget, and none of them really know what they’re doing except relying on dumb luck and previous planning to keep this thing afloat. 

Chris spends the entire morning frantically working with Matt and Nick to prepare. The songs have only all been written and finalized for a few days. Everyone runs around in a hectic way while the actors frantically try to learn lines that they’ll still get at least 30% wrong (especially Darren, who definitely suffers with a less than stellar memory when it comes to committing scripts and lyrics down).

It’s _fun_ , and it’s opening night, and most of the people in attendance are their friends or classmates anyway. They’ll fuck up and they’ll try to fix it next time and probably just fuck up in different ways and they’ll laugh about it later. 

“Chris!” Darren, skidding up to him. “Kiss for luck?” 

Chris leans forward and kisses him. He leans down just a bit to tip his forehead against Darren’s before he remembers why that’s a bad idea. ”Oh - shit. Smudged your scar.” 

He reaches up to fix it but just smudges it worse.

“I’ll get her to redo it,” Darren says, using a thumb to rub through the back mark on Chris’s own skin. “There, now you can just be my understudy.” 

“Oh god no,” Chris says, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t even know half your lines.” 

“Want to know a secret? I don’t think _I_ know half my lines.” Darren gives him a sheepish grin. “But did you look out there? It’s fucking packed.” 

“Don’t tell me that. I think I’m more nervous than you are.” Chris winces.

Darren laughs and grabs it. “Calm down. If anyone bombs, it’ll be me.” 

“You won’t bomb. You’re amazing,” Chris says, kissing him quickly one more time. “I love you. Break a leg.”

“Love you, too.” Darren’s face is alight with his excitement, his passion for performing. 

Then he’s back into the mix, shouting for Joey over the voices, and someone else is grabbing Chris to ask him about script direction and the minutes are counting down faster than any of them are comfortable with but it’s okay. 

The audience gets louder, and it’s time. 

Everyone gathers around. It’s not the first time Chris has been in a show circle but with Darren’s pinkie hooked in his it has a new level of excitement to it. He listens, tears up at the impassioned speeches, and then laughs when Darren reminds them all that they’re crashing Joey’s place later, where he lives with both of the Brian’s now. 

Then the circle breaks and people rush to their places. Chris waits offstage chewing his fingernails to bits while Darren takes his spot on a trunk in the middle of the stage and starts to sing. 

*

It’s a week before graduation and Darren drops by work with a huge smile on his face, a coffee, and a muffin for Chris. 

“You know there’s not supposed to be food in the library,” Chris says, but he reaches for them greedily. 

“I got a job!” He beams, leaning over the counter. “You are looking at the new Arts Production Assistant for the university, with the music department. I’m a total grunt but they’re fucking _paying me_.”

“Darren!” Chris stares at him, eyes wide. “That’s like - that’s a real job. I mean - that - you can actually put that on your resume.” 

Darren laughs but Chris is still surprised. He thought he knew about all the places Darren was applying for: the bars, a few restaurants, a music store.

“I know, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think I really had a shot. But one of my music professors came to me with it. Usually they want more experience but he managed to slide my application under the door and the fact that I know the school so well-” 

“And that you’re stupidly talented,” Chris fills in where Darren won’t.

Darren sticks his tongue out. “Anyway, I interviewed last week, and I thought for sure it was gonna be a pass so I didn’t want to get my hopes up by like... talking about it. But they didn’t pass. I got it. I start first of June.” 

“Do they know you’re only staying until December?” Chris asks. 

“Yeah, I was up front about it. They gave it to me anyway. Sucks for them.” Darren reaches down and steals a drink of Chris’s coffee. “When do you get off? I want to go celebrate later.” 

“Two hours?” Chris guesses. Technically it should be three but he can call in some favors. 

Darren leans over to kiss him. “Meet you back here then.” 

* 

The morning of Darren’s department commencement, Chris wakes him up with a _yay, you’re graduating!_ handjob and then forces him into the shower when he tries to convince Chris they can really sleep for another hour. 

They meet Darren’s family for breakfast. Today it’s just the immediate family - Darren’s parents, Chuck and his girlfriend. Darren’s almost vibrating with excitement, scarfing down food and filling everyone in on everything. 

Chris doesn’t have to do anything but sit there and watch, smiling and occasionally confirming details or answering questions. 

The thing he doesn’t have to fill anyone in on is their plans, apparently. Chris isn’t sure when those conversations happened but everyone just somehow seems to understand that Darren’s here until Chris can leave, that whatever they do - they’re doing together. 

“I’m still gonna be doing music lessons, I’ve got a gig three times a week in town and I’ll be working at least twenty hours a week for the music department. He said it might end up being closer to thirty or forty in the fall when there are concerts and productions going on.” Darren says. His excitement is genuine and obvious. “It’s kind of awesome, because I can stick around here and do this next play we’re talking about.” 

“Oh? What’s it about?” Cerina asks. 

Chris and Darren share a look in which Chris silently begs him not to launch into an explanation of a talking penis musical while they’re all at breakfast, in public. 

“Top secret,” Darren says. “You know. Bad luck to say before it’s finished.” 

Chuck doesn’t buy it - no one probably does - but it doesn’t matter. Darren’s family is so easy going that they just accept his randomness and move on to the next topic. 

* 

There are two ceremonies. The first one, just for their department, is on Friday and Darren doesn’t need to be there until later in the day. The second is a full day event on Saturday and afterward - 

“Afterward,” Darren says in a somber voice. “We party our asses off.” 

Chris rolls his eyes. They’re sitting in bed, naked and pleasantly exhausted after morning sex. “Right. Got that. But pre-partying agenda is-”

“Meeting my folks in like an hour for breakfast-” 

“Then you go to get ready for commencement-

“And you entertain my parents and keep Mom from divorcing Dad when he eyes up the co-eds-” 

“Like father like son?” Chris smirks. 

“I’m a one-sexy-undergrad kind of man.” They trade lazy kisses, Darren’s trailing down Chris’s jaw and neck. “Do you realize how much time you’re spending with my parents this weekend? Does that not scare you?” 

“Darren, your mom loves me. Maybe more than she loves you.” 

Darren sulks. “Not fair. Aren’t you supposed to hate the in-laws?” 

Chris hides his smile by kissing Darren’s shoulder. “So. Then we go find our seats-” 

“And you try to contain your heartfelt sobs as you watch me take my first steps into the wide world of manhood.” 

“Darren, I think you’ve already got manhood down.” Chris launches himself over, straddling Darren and looking down at him. He wiggles his butt, feeling Darren under him. “I’m a big fan of your manhood, in fact.” 

“Promise me you will never use manhood in one of your novels,” Darren says. “Please. Promise me.” 

“Only if you never use it in one of your songs,” Chris says. Darren’s hands cup his ass, thumbs stroking between the cheeks, over his hole. “Stop that, you’re turning me on and we need to go shower.” 

“Don’t wanna.” Darren kisses his neck. “Tell my parents make it two hours.” 

“That would put us _late_ ,” Chris says, and scoots backwards until he can edge off the bed. Over his shoulder he shouts, “Come on! Shower! Or you’re doing it alone!” 

* 

After breakfast Darren heads off to meet up with his fellow graduates and Chris is left with Darren’s family. 

Chris and Cerina lose Chuck and Charles to the sportswear department of the bookstore. 

“Would you like to go get some coffee?” Chris asks, since they’re close to a coffee shop. It’s not Ashley’s Starbucks, but it’s close by. 

Cerina beams at him. “I’d love to, Christopher.” 

The way she calls him by his full name in that soft, accented voice reminds him of his own mother less than he’d expect. She treats Darren as more of a child than she does Chris, regarding him with nothing but respect and fondness when she talks to him. 

She treats him like an adult, like an equal, and if her desired effect is to put Chris at ease, it does that. 

She hooks her arm in his as they walk. She’s tiny, more so now that he’s shot up a few more inches. (Darren won’t stop complaining about how he _swears_ they were the same height when they met.)

“So, is my son treating you right?” She asks. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Chris smiles, knowing how true it is. “We’re doing really well.” 

“Good. If you can survive living with him and knowing what a messy person he is at heart, you’ll be able to take anything from him. He used to tell me it was an artist’s soul.” She does an impression of Darren. “ _Mom, how am I supposed to write the songs of a generation when you’re making me clean up my room all the time?_ ” 

“Actually, he still does that when I ask him to pick up after himself,” Chris says. His impression of Darren is a little sillier. “ _Chris, how am I gonna come up with kickass lyrics if you’re on my ass about dirty laundry?_ ”

“Well, you keep him in line,” Cerina warns. “I don’t think you’ll have to try too hard. He’s got moons and stars in his eyes when he looks at you. I never thought I’d see him so in love.” 

Chris knows at this point that he’s the longest relationship Darren has ever had, but it’s still nice to hear it. “I feel the same way about him.” 

“And I know that, too.” Cerina pats his hand. 

*

Chris tears up a couple of times during the ceremony but he doesn’t really cry until afterward. This one is specific to their department and it hits him that some of these people he’s used to seeing will leave and he might not ever hear from them again beyond a happy birthday on facebook or the occasional email. 

It might be part of that feeling that makes him keep hold of Darren’s hand with a death grip as frequently as he can. 

Darren’s parents take them out to eat in a restaurant they’ve never been to, far out of their price range. 

Darren grabs the cocktail list right away. “What are we getting?” He asks Chris. “Something fruity. I’m feeling fruity.” 

“Too easy,” Chuck says. “Hmm, now, Chris, when is your birthday again?” 

“Shut up,” Chris says, laughing. “I’ll be twenty-one in like three weeks. That’s close enough.” 

“The law might disagree, young one.” Chuck is just teasing, though. Darren’s entire family is laid back when it comes to things like that. 

“Speaking of...” Cerina smiles a very excited, Darren-like smile. “We have presents for you boys.” 

She hands them both envelopes. 

“Both of us?” Chris asks, confused. 

“Yes, both of you.” Charles smiles, reaching out to pat Chris on the shoulder. “You only turn twenty-one once. So happy graduation, son, and happy birthday to you, Chris.” 

“Open them at the same time,” Cerina orders. She leans forward, beaming. 

Chris and Darren both work the envelopes open. Inside are different cards; a graduation one for Darren and a birthday one for Chris. 

A debit card falls out of each one. They have similar but differently colored Mickey Mouse designs on them. There’s also a piece of stationery printed with a hotel booking and flight vouchers in each. 

“We’re going to fucking Disney World?” Darren says it so loudly that Chuck’s girlfriend blushes and Charles has to shush him. “Holy shit, Chris, we’re going to Disney World!” 

“You’ve each got five hundred dollars on those cards, for tickets to wherever you want to go and food,” Cerina says. “You boys have never had a real vacation together where you weren’t staying with family members, and you deserve one.” 

“This is- I can’t-” Chris stammers. “It’s too much.” 

“Shut up, Chris!” Darren laughs, and then leans over to give him a wet kiss. “This is fucking perfect, you guys are the best parents ever. Disney World!!” 

*

Chris wakes early the next morning and sneaks into the kitchen to make breakfast. 

Beni wakes with him. She stands in the kitchen and winds her way around his feet, eyeing the counter like she’s calculating the distance between her body and the raw bacon he has laid out. 

“Don’t you dare,” Chris whispers in the high little voice he uses just for her when he’s alone and doesn’t care about sounding stupid. “That’s Daddy’s special graduation breakfast. You have yummy kitty food in your bowl all for you.”

He puts the bacon on to fry and scrambles eggs. He doesn’t have time or the skill to add anything much more complicated besides raisin toast and the apple butter that Darren loves so much. 

He plates it all up and leaves Beni having a kitten sized temper tantrum over the fact that she didn’t even get to sniff the plate he’d let the bacon rest on while it cooled. 

His plans of breakfast in bed are foiled, though, when Darren walks in rubbing his eyes and scratching his belly. He’s sniffing in an eerily similar way to Beni with the bacon as he zeroes in on the plate. “S’at for me?” 

“You know it is.” Chris puts the food on the table. “I was going to bring it to you.”

“Better like this,” Darren says, grabbing the fork and shoveling food into his mouth. Half of the eggs fall off before they make the journey and Beni wiggles her butt and pounces them, batting with a paw before she decides they aren’t worth her time and stalks back off. 

“Why can’t we have a pet that eats food when it falls on the floor? Move your foot.” Chris grumbles, cleaning it up with a napkin that he balls up and tosses into the trash by the counter. 

“This is delicious,” Darren says, mouth full. “Luff-oo.” 

“Of course you do,” Chris says. He looks at the clock. “You have to be there by eight?” 

Darren nods. “You meeting Mom and Dad?” 

“At eight-thirty,” Chris says. “But if you want to shower together I might just go with you. I can grab coffee early, I’m sure the lines will be insane.” 

“You’ve got the tickets?” Darren asks. 

Chris nods. “Put them by the front door so I won’t forget them.” 

“And after?” 

“I come find you and hug you to death,” Chris says. 

“You mean kiss me to death,” Darren corrects. “With tongue. Lots of tongue.” 

“I’m not kissing you with lots of tongue in front of your parents.” Chris refuses. 

“We’re getting lunch with everyone afterward though?” Darren asks.

They’ve been over this a dozen times already, and they both have phones so it isn’t like they can’t just call or text to check in - but if Darren is nervous (and he is, Chris can tell) Chris doesn’t mind going over it again. “So lunch at one...”

*

The graduation is just shy of too-long, and lunch is a noisy affair teeming with friends and family.

“Here, man,” Chuck says, handing Darren a card. 

It’s an IOU for a trip to New York for Chris and Darren. “I know mom and dad totally overshadowed me, but for a weekend or something. I need some time to try and talk you two into moving there.” 

Darren throws his arms around Chuck. “I don’t know, but we’ll definitely come for a weekend no matter what.” 

“I like how most of your presents so far benefit me,” Chris says. 

Most of the cards he gets contain money, which Chris thinks he’ll have to convince Darren not to spend all of in Florida. 

But when he makes the comment Darren just grins at him and says, “I want to save it all for when we move.” 

They still haven’t talked much about where they’ll go, but Chris has a browser full of jobs he’s interested in open on his computer at home and he’s narrowing down his choices. 

It’ll be New York or Los Angeles, though; Darren won’t say but Chris knows it. Chicago would be a distant third, but for Darren to chase his dreams they need the big cities. 

He looks over at Darren, who is waving his hands around as he talks to Brian. Both of their graduation caps are still on, and Darren’s face is flushed with excitement. A little bead of sweat glistens along his hairline. 

Darren stops talking and catches him looking, head whipping around so hard it almost dislodges the cap. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Chris says, playing innocent. Then he leans in and whispers to Darren, “Just thinking about the graduation present I’m going to give you later.” 

He reaches down and squeezes high on Darren’s thigh then pulls his hand away and turns back to listen to what Meredith is saying. 

*

Once Darren’s parents are escorted back to their hotel, they hit the party with Chuck and Lucy. 

Darren gets whisked away for the first round of celebratory new graduate shots. Chris sticks with Chuck and Lucy for a few minutes, but he realizes that it isn’t actually necessary. Darren’s brother might not be quite as loud as Darren but he still doesn’t seem to have trouble making friends, and he’s been to Michigan enough to visit Darren that he knows some people. 

So he goes and finds some of his own familiar faces. A drunken Lauren sits on Dylan’s shoulders while Joey paints her toenails blue and yellow. “You want yours done next?” He asks, slurring his words. 

He sees how much of the paint ends up on her nails and how much is splattered over her feet and declines. He does help himself to the rest of Joey’s beer though. 

“Hey! ‘s mine!” Joey waves the dripping little polish brush at him menacingly. “Give it.” 

“It’s empty,” Chris informs him. “I’ll get you another.” 

He ends up taking drink orders for six, and promptly forgetting what everyone wanted by the time he makes it to the impromptu bar set up in the kitchen. He grabs a two liter of Diet Coke, a bottle of rum, three beers, and a fruity thing for Lauren. 

“You’re my favorite,” he tells her, handing her the special one. 

“You’re my favorite, too.” She beams at him and lets it rest on top of Dylan’s head. 

* 

He loses track of how much he drinks and how much time passes but eventually he spots Darren wandering back into the room. He thinks it’s been close to an hour and he holds out his arms, fingers clenching and unclenching like a kid that wants to be picked up. 

Darren gives him a scrunchy faced grin and holds up a hand with five fingers extended, then points to the guy talking his ear off. 

Chris pouts... and then he gets an idea. He hands off his drink to someone else and hops to his feet, grabbing the arm of the couch to steady himself. He makes sure Darren is looking and then heads for the staircase. 

It takes a few minutes before he finds an empty room upstairs. It’s a bathroom, most likely a guest room by the look of it. He fumbles down for his phone and manages to send a mostly coherent message telling Darren where he is. 

Of course, the plan goes awry, of course. Ten minutes pass and Darren doesn’t show up. Twenty and Chris is actually sobering up a little bit, but still no Darren. He’s annoyed and frustrated as he heads back downstairs, sidestepping a couple making out and another fighting. 

Darren is sitting at a piano, singing in between bouts of gasping laughter and playing his heart out. As much as Chris wants to be annoyed, he really can’t be. 

The moment of realization is obvious. He sees Chris and his eyes go wide and his fingers hit the wrong keys, making a clang of noise. 

He shouts something to someone waiting beside him and slides off the bench, fluidly grabbing for his solo cup as he walks away. 

“Shit, Chris, I-” 

Chris leans forward and kisses him to stop the flow of words, mouth open on contact and tongue sliding in deep. Darren grunts into the kiss but his arm goes around Chris and he returns it without missing a beat after that. 

They’re both breathing harder when Chris pulls off. “If you want to stay down here with your friends and play for them, that’s fine. I mean it - this is your night, I won’t be mad at you, I’ll just sit here and listen to you and cheer you on. But if you want to right now we can go upstairs to an empty room and I’ll drop down to my knees and let you fuck my mouth so hard I can’t talk tomorrow.” 

Darren’s pupils are blown and Chris feels a surge of very instinctive, almost primal satisfaction. 

He draws his tongue slowly over Darren’s bottom lip. “Now, what do you want to do?” 

Darren practically drags him upstairs. 

*

“This isn’t-” Chris breaks off to gasp, fingers clenching along the bathroom countertop. “This isn’t what I - what I had in - _fuck_ -” 

His hips rock shallowly back and forth, cock sliding wet and thick and red between Darren’s perfect lips. 

“I was supposed to blow you,” Chris reminds him weakly. “Are you sure-” 

Darren pulls off, hand taking over for his mouth to stroke up and down the spit-slick shaft. “This is what I want, baby. This is just how I want it. Too drunk for the other way to work anyway.” 

Chris nods and tilts his head back again. Darren’s mouth sinks back on and his hands grab Chris’s ass, silently asking him to move. 

He reaches down and fists one hand in Darren’s hair, caught tight between his fingers to keep him still while Chris goes harder and faster. Something about being drunk makes this easier for Darren. It’s sort of a calculated risk but almost always worth it and Darren’s never not been able to say when it’s too much. 

Five minutes of one of the most fantastic blowjobs of his life and Chris is close, so close. The doorknob has jiggled half a dozen times and that just makes it more exciting. Someone thumps their fist against the door and Darren just reaches out with a hand and bangs back. 

Chris has every intention of warning Darren that he’s close but he doesn’t actually get much warning himself. Darren’s pulled off to wipe at the spit from his chin and his hand strokes with just the right tightness, firm and steady just up to the head and squeezing, and Chris just -

\- he loses it. He comes, hard, shooting across Darren’s cheek and into his hair. He realizes it but he can’t fucking stop, not for a few seconds too long. Darren’s mouth is back on him greedily swallowing it down but the damage is done. 

They need to clean up, should probably clean up now since there are actually people catcalling them through the door, but when Chris looks down Darren’s hand is shoved into his pants. “What happened to too drunk?” Chris asks. 

Darren tips his face up toward Chris, flushed and come-streaked, pupils blown. He can’t even answer, just opens his mouth and pants and tugs on his cock. 

Chris sinks to his knees to give Darren a hand. 

*

“Oh my god, you look ridiculous,” Chris giggles. 

They’ve tried to wash the come out of his hair but it’s obvious that it’s been washed and there’s not much they can do about the come stain on the shoulder of his t-shirt. Darren turns it inside out and says, “Maybe no one will notice.”

“Darren, everyone will notice.” Chris laughs and drops his forehead to Darren’s. “They will notice and they will take pictures.” 

“Fuck it,” Darren says, grabbing the doorknob and unlocking it. There’s a decent line-ish group of people outside... Chuck at the head of it. 

“Fucking hell,” Chuck groans, covering his face with his hands. “I should have known it was you. Darren, your fucking fly.” 

Darren zips his pants up quickly. “We’re just gonna - uh-”

He grabs Chris’s hand and pushes through the people, both of them laughing almost as hard as everyone around them is at them. 

*

They don’t make it back to bed until the wee hours of Sunday morning, light threatening to break through their curtains. Chuck and Lucy share their couch and Chris can hear them drunkenly whispering and giggling to each other. 

Chris makes sure there’s a garbage can by Darren’s side of the bed and whispers, “Wake me up if you feel sick.” 

“‘m fine,” Darren mumbles, rolling toward Chris and flopping an arm over his shoulder. “‘m all graduated, baby.” 

“Yes, you are.” Chris is exhausted through and through now that his own buzz has faded. 

“Proud of me?” Darren blinks a few times and smiles lazy. 

“So proud,” Chris promises. 

“Love me?” Darren asks, leaning in even closer to brush their noses together. 

Chris pecks him on the mouth. He tastes like stale breath and alcohol but Chris doesn’t mind. “So much.” 

Darren’s eyes slide shut and it only takes a couple of minutes before he’s snoring. 

Chris stays up just a little bit longer to watch him sleep.


End file.
